


Inevitable

by VisionaryGalaxy



Series: A Thousand Futures of Me and You [38]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst with a Happy Ending, Banter, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Stephen Strange, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Sassy Tony Stark, Soul Bond, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 13:23:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16787794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisionaryGalaxy/pseuds/VisionaryGalaxy
Summary: This had been inevitable from the start, how else could they go from a one night stand at a medical gala eleven years ago to sitting across from each other sipping tea in his Sanctum after saving the world from a Titan? Stephen supposes it doesn't matter, as long as they are here.





	Inevitable

**Author's Note:**

> 12 thousand words of procrastination, I'm so sorry.  
> Also I swear Pepper was supposed to be in this but she just sort of...disappeared.

The first time Stephen Strange met Tony Stark he had been less then impressed. It was very possible, of course, that he was influenced by the circumstances and his pre-conceived contempt for the weapons dealer. He had no reason to be at the medical conference slash gala, filled with doctors and academics looking to save lives and not irreparably destroy them.

Unfortunately, as Stephen leaned against the bar, long glass of champagne in hand, he had to admit that this was the one time he shouldn’t be surprised to see the man here. This event was arranged with some of the most brilliant minds in the medical field attending, and even more wealthy people from whom they were expected to secure funding for their hospitals and various projects.

“You should go over there.”

Stephen glanced over at Christine, seated on the stool next to him, her own gaze on Stark’s table, surrounded by men and women attempting to woo him. It was certainly amusing, the women giggling and touching causally in a way that put their intellect to shame, while the men spoke in quiet voices and charming smiles in an equally ridiculous way. It was no secret that Tony Stark was bisexual, and it appeared the consensus was, that the way to his funding was through his pants. Not that the man wasn’t obviously loving it, offering sly smiles, laughing uproariously, all the while remaining completely and utterly unreachable.

Stephen snorted. “Why would I do that?”

Christine sipped her own glass of wine, leg hooked over the other swinging absently as she shot him a wry little smile. “Because you are the most brilliant person in this room and the most deserving of his money. Those idiots are going to scare him away eventually without a single donation and we both know what a waste that is.”

As she spoke Stephen found his eyes getting stuck on her lips for a moment, sliding down her perfectly tailored black dress, her long legs strapped into tasteful little heels. He was often distracted by her these days, but for the moment, with the chaos of both their work it seemed unwise to push for attempting a relationship. Even if it was on his mind often as of late. Still, a moment later her words filtered through and he stared at her incredulously.

“You seriously expect me to whore myself out for some basic funding? I think I would rather pay for it myself.”

She rolled her eyes and smacked his arm playfully. “You know that isn’t what I meant. You might be the only person that can convince him your work is important enough without getting him drunk on alcohol and sex.”

“What would make you think that?” Stephen had no doubt his work was important enough to pursue on an academic level, knew his hospital was prestigious enough to make any investor comfortable, but he seriously doubted that Stark would give a rat’s ass about that, figured as smart as he claimed to be, he wouldn’t comprehend how essential his work was.

“The way he looked at you.”

Stephen blinked, she was looking at Stark again, a knowing smile stretching across her lips. Despite himself, curiosity stirred in him, mind casting back into the evening, but he couldn’t remember Stark standing out to him in the slightest after his initial arrival.

Christine continued, “when the speeches were being made he was so bored, I swear he nearly passed out if it wasn’t for the red-headed lady giving him a hard shove.” She laughed quietly, and something eased in Stephen, as it so often did these days. “But when you walked onto the stage he completely changed. It looked like he hung off your every word. Everyone noticed, they were pretty pissed off actually, which explains why they are all trying so hard now.”

All it took was one look at Christine’s face to know he was being played, worse it took not even a second for him to realize he didn’t care.

As if sensing that victory Christine sipped her drink one final time before depositing the empty glass on the bar behind them, then nonchalantly struck the killing blow. “Its like a competition to them at this point. Whoever can win his funding will finally have beaten you at _something_ , you know how jealous they get.”

Stephen blew out a heavy sigh, “Stop it.” Christine was still the only person who could manipulate him so easily, knew him well enough to poke at just the right places. He had no illusions, was very much aware of his competitive nature, and it really would be a waste for Stark’s funding to go toward any of their asinine projects. “You win.”

She grinned triumphantly. “Good luck, I’ll be talking to Dr. Sanchez and Andrea.” She hopped from the stool, already making a beeline through the crowd.

Stephen watched her go for a moment, amused. But soon enough his gaze was drawn back to the table, assessing his game plan. A strange sense of excitement went through him, a little thrill as he prepared to play a very familiar game. He saw this as no different from the various hook ups he would acquire at events less prestigious then this, though obviously the goal wasn’t the same.

It was almost laughably easy for Stephen to take stock of the situation. While Tony Stark was certainly enjoying the attention, it was clear as day that no one there was the least bit tempting. This was a man who need only snap his fingers to get a bed partner, someone who adored the spotlight and being the center of attention, he wasn’t used to being denied what he wanted. Like he said, laughably easy.

Stephen glanced down at himself, ensuring his suit was unruffled. He looked impeccable tonight, having forgone the traditional tux and bow that most of the men were wearing. His suit was black to be sure, but his tie was a beautiful dark blue that Christine said highlighted his eyes. Assured that he was more then presentable, Stephen allowed his eyes to wander across the room until he spotted a familiar figure. Andrew Trey, the head of his hospital, standing alone and glaring at Stark’s table. He was an older gentleman, and Stephen found his company generally enjoyable when he wasn’t being an annoying prick about his project and deadlines and clinic hours.

Stephen needed to make sure Christine hadn’t been exaggerating about Stark’s attention, and the easiest way to do that was to check and see if he still had it. Putting down his glass, nearly empty now Stephen made his way across the room, eyes forward, stride direct and confident as he passed by Stark’s table. There was someone speaking but he couldn’t identify the voice as he weaved through the throng of people, intent on his goal.

Eventually he found himself standing next to Andrew, who only graced him a quick look. “Strange.”

Stephen tilted his head, “Trey.”

“You did well with the presentation. I’ve gotten some interesting suggestions by Dr. Gailey.”

Stephen frowned, “as if she knows anything about the surgery I was talking about. Last I heard she was absolutely useless with any of the more delicate surgical maneuvers.”

His lips crooked up into a small smile, “which is why I spoke to her and not you.”

Stephen smiled his own thanks, let his eyes drift toward Stark’s table as if just following the gaze of his companion, only to be met with intense whiskey eyes, and a curling smile. Stephen was careful to hold Stark’s look for a moment, before turning away with disinterest.

Trey was already looking at him, relief profound in his features. “Thank god,” he muttered. “We really need his funding.”

Stephen blinked, surprised.

He just grinned, “I knew making you come to this one would be a good idea.” He patted Stephen on the back before suddenly walking away.

His abrupt departure left Stephen confused for a moment until a shockingly deep voice spoke behind him, effectively explaining the quick escape.

“I didn’t mean to scare away your friend.”

Stephen turned, working hard to keep his expression passive, even as he struggled to keep his unease at bay. He hadn’t expected Stark to come up to him that quickly, he was just testing the waters, not offering an invitation. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to be too upset, seeing the billionaire up close for the first time all night. Like Stephen he had opted for a suit and tie, but it was a deep grey hugging his form in an almost indecent way. The man was undeniably hot, from his dark hair and eyes, to the carefully crafted goatee, the olive skin, he was a sight for hungry eyes. But of course, that didn’t change the fact that he owned a business effectively destroying lives.

Stephen found it incredibly easy to keep his voice cool, “he’s my boss and it’s getting late, he needed to go call his family.” Sympathy for an overrun head of Stephen’s hospital couldn’t go amiss.

Tony raised an eyebrow, a little smirk playing around his lips, “well then, I guess that leaves you to answer my questions.”

Stephen leaned back against the wall, hands sliding into his pockets, allowed his gaze to move aimlessly around the room, “I couldn’t imagine what you would have questions about.”

A warm hand settled on Stephen’s shoulder, gentle but firm, very nearly startling him. He returned his gaze to Tony’s whose own had an unsettling focus in them. It occurred to Stephen that this man was playing his own game. “This is a medical conference last I was told, so my questions probably have something to do with that.”

Stephen snorted, unable to help himself. “Since when do you care about medicine?”

“Since an incredibly hot doctor caught my attention.”

Ah, so he _was_ looking to get laid tonight. “If you want to fuck somebody Stark, I suggest going to a club.”

Tony shrugged, unbothered, hand falling away. “I don’t want to fuck somebody, I want to fuck you.”

“That’s presumptuous of you.”

“That’s a big word Doctor. Trying to intimidate me with intellect doesn’t really work for me, I fact its just a turn on.” Tony teased, eyes dancing with mirth and warmth.

Something about it caught Stephen’s gaze, even as the words slipped from his mouth automatically, “Always good to know someone isn’t offended by people smarter then him.”

Tony shook his head, the stupid smirk ever caught on his face, “nobody is smarter then me, haven’t you heard? I’m a genius, but lucky for you I’m not turned off by narcissists.”

“Because you are one?” Stephen was surprised by the easy flow of banter between them, the fact that he didn’t find himself bored or even annoyed by the man.

Tony grinned, tilted his head toward the nearest table, empty and scattered with half filled glasses, crumbs, even a few dead flower petals from the vase in the center, “how about I ask those questions I had, you answer them, then we can decide if I can keep up?”

Stephen raised an eyebrow, pretending to consider the offer even while he knew he had won. It was just a matter of giving Stark enough hope of a lay and an explanation of his project in laymen’s terms to secure the funding. He nodded and allowed himself to be led to the table, mentally winking at the group of people still huddled around Stark’s old table, glaring at them.

From there the conversation flowed quickly. Stark made a surprisingly good listener, venturing to ask some reasonable questions and only a few that Stephen wanted to roll his eyes at. Other then that it went well, Stephen singing the praises of his hospital, carefully explaining the details of his project once prompted and generally enjoying himself. The conversation eventually shifted to mundane things like their favourite alcohol, questions about people who might run in both their circles. All the while Tony Stark leaned in closer and closer, his gaze growing warmer, casual touches along Stephen’s arm became longer until a natural break left them in companionable silence.

“Well,” Tony cleared his throat. “I think I found exactly where I want to donate the grant we offered.”

Grateful wasn’t really Stephen’s style so he just smiled, “best decision you’ve probably ever made.”

Tony shrugged, “we’ll see.”

Something heated stirred in Stephen’s abdomen as Tony leaned back, loosening his tie, ran a hand through his hair leaving it perfectly disheveled. Stephen had no intention of sleeping with Tony Stark, but for some reason all the carefully crafted explanations from before seemed minor now. He was an attractive man, certainly a good lay or else rumors would have spread by now, and despite the fact that he was responsible for an incredibly destructive company he was just a regular warm body seated and wanting in front of him.

Stephen had to admit that self-indulgence might very well be once of his greatest weaknesses, but he never considered it to be one until now as long as it didn’t interfere with his work. As it was, the decision was made before he himself even realized it, grabbing the napkin in front of him and using the pen forever tucked into the inner pocket of his suit he scrawled his number, taking care to make it legible. Stark watched on, that perpetual smirk in place, which Stephen duly ignored.

He pushed it at Stark with a raised eyebrow, he snatched it up and tucked it away, eyes glittering knowingly. “Presumptuous of me uh?”

Stephen met his gaze head on, allowing his usual confidence to shine through, even as his cock began to stir. “Yes. Text me once you’ve left.” He pushed back, intending to stand, only to be caught by a warm hand circling his wrist.

“Why don’t we just get out of here now?”

Stephen snorted, “unlike you Stark, I have a reputation to maintain.”

Tony tilted his head, that infuriating smirk still present, “really? Out of the two of us I’m pretty sure I’m the one with the media attention.”

Stephen did stand then, letting a look of disdain slide onto his features, well-aware of the little audience watching them from a few tables over, not to mention Christine and their colleagues lined along the wall, “please Stark, the media has already dragged your image through the mud beyond redemption.” He didn’t mention that they didn’t really need to, since his company’s actions were bad enough. “Leaving with a surgeon might be a step up for you. Me on the other hand, I won’t be seen as a whore to the media or my colleagues. So, yes we’ll be leaving separately.”

He walked away without acknowledging the way his expression twisted into shock at his less then kind statement. Still, he knew it was following him as he made his way to a grinning Christine, no doubt enjoying the small spectacle that made it seem as though he had rejected Stark’s advances.

She handed him a glass of champagne, “I guess you got the grant?”

“Of course.” He murmured, struggling not to let his own triumph shine through, knew better then to appear too obnoxious.

The next twenty minutes passed in companionable conversation with Christine, her ability to draw in his attention as effective as ever. Soon enough he was laughing quietly, making her grin and roll her eyes as he began giving commentary on the other attendees. Namely, their less then impressive presentations and hospital records, well…in comparison to his own.

Amazingly he had all but forgotten about Stark until he felt the buzzing of his phone, tucked in his suit against his breast pocket. He hadn’t been sure Stark would still pursue him after his final comment, but he couldn’t help but grin to himself as he slipped it out and glanced at the screen.

**Unknown Number** : Waverly Hotel, room 234 B.

When he looked up, he noted that Stark had left without him realizing it, along with his small entourage that had been in the peripheral the whole night. He took a steadying breath, eagerness flowing through him as he pressed a quick kiss to Christine’s head, and made his excuses of leaving. She was a little tipsy, so she didn’t question it, thank god, she nodded and waved him away. He wasn’t worried, knew she was sharing a room with a colleague of theirs who by the looks of it, was miserably sober.

Before he knew it, Stephen was standing in front of a plain brown door adorned by golden lettering indicating the room, jacket laid over his arm while he considered. He wasn’t stupid, well-aware of the eyes on him even now, beady and stern, that had followed since he stepped out of his car in front of the hotel. He distantly wondered what his background check said, he figures it must be like clockwork now whenever Stark showed an interest in someone.

Standing here he was suddenly overwhelmed by his own reaction. He didn’t typically do stuff like this, hook ups yes, but at medical galas? Absolutely not. Worse, he would almost never find himself so eager for someone like Tony Stark. For all intents and purposes, he should be walking away and sending a scathing text about all the millions of lives his company had ruined, well aware that Stark wasn’t petty enough to revoke his grant. So then why was he here?

Because he wanted to get laid with one of the most attractive men in New York? Definitely. Because he wanted to see one of the most powerful business men in the United States on his knees for him? Absolutely. But if he’s honest, he knows neither of those things should make him turn his back on his moral objections.

Just as he was about to leave, deciding this was probably a disastrous idea, the door swung open, startling him. There stood Stark, a wide grin on his face, suit jacket gone, and white shirt unbuttoned revealing a long line of tempting skin.

“Gonna stay out there all night Strange?”

Just like that Stephen’s hesitation disappeared, an odd feeling reeling him in as fast as a lightening strike and he strode forward purposely, forcing Stark to back up. Stephen didn’t stop, hands coming up to grip either side of the man’s face and drag him into a hard kiss, kicking the door closed behind him and letting his jacket fall to the floor. One of Stark’s hands settled on his waist while the other slid into his hair, tugging hard. Stephen was distracted for a moment at the feeling of his beard scratching along his skin, something he usually hated, but tonight, for whatever reason it sent a wave of heat through him.

He broke away, to see Stark’s flushed face, a wicked smile lighting up his expression, “almost thought you weren’t going to show.”

Stephen raised an eyebrow, “what happened to that ego of yours?” He didn’t wait for an answer, ducking his head so he could attach his lips to the skin of his throat, eagerly sucking and marking, upon hearing no protest, but a breathy moan.

“Pretty sure,” Stark gasped. “You were the narcissist.”

Stephen was suddenly annoyed with all the talk, he pulled back and yanked at Stark’s shirt. It took all of three seconds to remove the fabric revealing a surprising amount of muscle considering the man was known for over-indulgence. “I suggest you shut up and lead the way to the bedroom.”

Stark’s hand, which hadn’t left his hair tightened, bringing Stephen in for another kiss, lips moving hard against his before he opened suddenly, tongue licking along the seam of their mouths until Stephen responded in kind.

He pulled away again, a familiar smirk sliding onto red, glistening lips, “told you I’d get to fuck you.”

Stephen stepped back, instilling some small space between their heated bodies so he could level the man with a hard look, “and I said that was presumptuous of you.”

Stark’s raised an eyebrow, intrigued, “then what exactly do you have planned?”

“The only person getting fucked tonight is you, Stark.” Stephen stated as he loosened his tie and slid it off his head. He bent to pick up his jacket and set in on the chair just in the doorway. As he glanced over, however, he found Stark flushed, eyes dark and wanting. Stephen let his grin turn sharp. “Now like I said, lead the way to the bedroom.”

\----

Hours later, Stephen woke in unfamiliar sheets to the feeling of a warm body pressed to his side and an arm tossed across his waist. He peeled back his eyes, slowly took in the horrible décor common of hotel rooms, even high-end ones, the moonlight being filtered in through the window, and finally, his companion.

Tony was tucked against him, breath ghosting across his chest in even little huffs, his hair was disheveled from Stephen’s rough treatment, and there was still a slight glisten of sweat on his forehead.

He hadn’t been wrong; the sex was good but seeing him on his knees had been even better. Watching him take Stephen’s cock into his mouth and finally shutting up had been a highlight and for all his talk of fucking Stephen, in the end he had taken him with an ease that often came of experience. He tilted his head down, let his eyes run slowly over Tony’s body, noted the small group of bruises low on his neck and more obviously on his chest. Stephen shouldn’t feel pride at that but it was nice to see his marks adorning the skin of the one and only Tony Stark.

Stephen turned his head to the nightstand, instinctively searching for his phone only to realize it must still be in his coat, which he left on that chair in the entrance. It was just as well, he really shouldn’t stay any longer. He and Christine were carpooling back, having craftily avoided riding with their two bosses to this conference/gala, which meant he needed to be up and back at the hotel for six AM at the latest. He strained his head in the other direction and finally caught sight of a clock, he blew a sigh of relief at the bright red numbers declaring it be four AM.

Stephen laid his head back down for a moment, carefully stretched his legs out, shifted and enjoyed the strain a little. Tony grumbled quietly, his arm tightening around his waist. Stephen needed to get up and ideally, he would do so without disturbing Tony. It wasn’t that he found it awkward, more that he just hated small talk.

Carefully he began extricating himself from the bed, easing Tony’s arms off, pushing back the covers, sliding gently away. Soon enough his bare feet hit the carpeted floor and he was casting his eyes about for his clothes. It didn’t take long to find, he had dumped them on another useless chair in the corner for this very reason. He was able to slip into his underwear and was just tugging on his dress shirt when he heard the shifting of the bed and turned to find Tony blinking blearily at him.

“Morning.” Stephen said gruffly, nimble fingers moving from button to button.

Tony yawned widely, sat up a little against his pillows, “not that I don’t appreciate the view but where are you going?”

Stephen felt like it was pretty obvious, so he rolled his eyes as he reached for his pants, “you are clearly still asleep if you are asking stupid questions.”

“Wow, does your sass ever turn off?” He said with a strange fondness in his tone that made Stephen’s stomach turn.

“Does yours?” He yanked his pants up.

Tony shrugged, his smirk coming back, “you could stop getting dressed so we can repeat last night. It’s got to be preferable to wherever you are running off to.”

Stephen stared, felt like a practical joke was being played on him. Tony Stark of all people knew how one-night stands worked. He took a deep breath, yearned desperately for coffee to see him through this, “I have to leave in two hours. I need to be showered, dressed, and ready to go with the rest of my colleagues, so as fun as it would be jump into bed with you again, I actually have responsibilities.”

Tony flicked on the lamp next to his bed, running a tired hand through his hair and Stephen felt his traitorous cock twitch at the sight of his bare chest littered with more love bites Stephen didn’t even remember putting there. The soft little smile on Tony’s lips proved a bigger distraction, however, when something warm moved through Stephen, a feeling he had no wish to linger on.

“Ok right, back to New York then I guess?”

“Yes.” Stephen buckled up his pants, spotted his shoes next to the bed and sat on the edge to put them on.

“Hmm, I guess I’ll give you a call sometime then.”

For the love of all that was holy, what was Tony doing? This was not at all what he was expecting from Tony Stark of all people. Stephen stood stiffly, made sure to keep his expression impassive, “I think I made it clear last night. I am not some booty call.”

Tony’s head tilted at him, “too good to sleep with me again Doctor or was the sex that bad?” his tone was still teasing but there was a darker undercurrent there, subtle and warning.

Stephen grit his teeth, “I’ll repeat myself only once more. I am not your personal whore. I might do casual sex, but I don’t do the whole friends with benefits thing. Not that I think friendship would ever be a viable option either, like I said, I have a reputation to maintain.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed, sat up straighter, the blanket pooling around his waist, “I never said you were, and please do tell. How exactly does the richest man in the world, the greatest inventor, give you a bad reputation?”

Stephen threw his hands up in annoyance, “you have got to be kidding me! As if I was the narcissist.” He suddenly really missed the small talk he professed to hate so much. “I am a surgeon, I save lives. You on the other hand own a company responsible for the death of thousands of people, men, women, children. Maybe you can see the conflict there?”

Tony mouth twisted into a mocking grin, “Oh how pure and good of you Doctor. As if you have never been responsible for unnecessary deaths before. I seem to remember you mentioning turning down several critical candidates for your experimental project because you wanted the perfect patient, no matter how much they needed your help.”

“As if that is the same thing!” Stephen snapped.

Tony rolled his eyes, “then tell me, if I’m so morally outrageous and disgusting why the fuck did you decide to sleep with me? You already had the grant.”

Stephen clenched his jaw, wished he desperately had a good answer for that, something better then the inexplicable feeling of being sucked into this man’s orbit without a choice in the matter. Instead, he levelled him with a hard look, “because we were both horny and you were a warm body. Might be time you give your ego a reality check.”

Stephen spun on his heel before Tony could offer his own scathing reply, he left the room quickly, pausing only to scoop up his jacket and shrug it on. He was already categorizing this lapse in judgment as on of his worst, to be ignored and denied at all costs. It was also a lesson to be learned, not to be tempted by idiots no matter how hot they were.

So yes, the first time he met Tony Stark, he was less then impressed. Despite the odd draw that seemed to be the man’s natural charisma it was abundantly clear that their stubbornness and the fact that in everything else they were complete opposites negated that strange connection. He had no intention of ever speaking to Tony Stark again, not that it would be an issue of course, they didn’t run in the same circles really. This would just be a bad memory for them both.

\----

In the end of course, the universe would never be so kind to Stephen. The second time he met Tony Stark, he was nearly unrecognizable, but for his sarcasm. Stephen was left unimpressed once again, but it wasn’t as though he expected anything less.

Stephen was exhausted, dead on his feet as he worked through his twenty-second hour. The only thing keeping him from crashing was the orchestra of noise rising and falling around him. Most were recognizable sounds of medicine, announcements over the speaker, the yelling of doctors and nurses as they dealt with the influx of patients, the sound of sirens as the ambulances deposited wounded after wounded. In tandem rose the white noise of agony, screaming of patients, begging for help of others, crying of children and even adults who were still confused and unsure. As for the sight of it all, it was all shades of white and grey, the hospital’s usually pristine white being slowly swallowed by the people coming in, covered in dust and debris, coughing and choking on the ashes and particles in the air.

The battle of New York had ended one hour and twenty-six minutes ago when Ironman flew a missile into a black hole, or so he was told by frantic patients. The Avengers had disappeared, as they tended to do and now Stephen and the entire hospital continued the fight, forgotten by soldiers as they so often were. It must be so nice, Stephen thought wearily, as he examined the patient in front of him, to simply go home when its all over and never face the aftermath of everything.

“Amputate the leg,” he stated, handing the clipboard to a nurse. “Operating room three is open, get her there ASAP while I wrangle a quick team, this one can’t be done in the hallway.” She reached out to start wheeling the patient, a young woman only just turned eighteen, but Stephen quickly called out once more. “And for the love of God hurry down to the blood bank and get some A- before they waste it all on some other idiot.”

He was just about to steal one of the training nurses, seeing few other options when there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned in irritation to find Christine, pale and haggard from her own seventeen hours running about. “How are you holding up?” she asked.

Stephen rolled his eyes, “not really the time.”

She shook her head, “I mean it. I’m checking with all the surgeons, you can’t be doing complex procedures half asleep.”

Stephen snorted, “look around Christine, you see much choice? The next hospital is nearly an hour away, half of the serious cases won’t make it that far. Its us or nothing.”

There was a sudden loud scream as another trolley rolled in, a woman with half her face burned up, the skin already bubbling and filling with pus. Stephen winced but figured she may be one of the lucky ones, the burn unit was practically empty right now, if they found a Doctor to attend her, she’d be alright.

He turned back to Christine, ignoring the people scattered around them, looking up with pleading eyes, “I could use you in operating room three though for an amputation.”

She just nodded tiredly and followed him.

\----

Several hours later Stephen trudged out of the operating room and made a beeline for the front door. He needed fresh and air, needed to escape the sickly smell of antiseptic and blood that had grown to almost a noxious cloud from the sheer number of bodies. As he made his way, he was relieved to see that the numbers had dropped drastically.

Christine had mentioned that they began redirecting non-critical patients to their sister hospital, and they had managed to send people home who had only minor injuries but had been panicking. So, while there were still people strewn about in hallways and chairs, nurses still rushing about, it was far less claustrophobic then earlier.

Breathing in the cool fresh air, Stephen finally relaxed. His back and feet ached horribly, his hands had the slightest tremble from the back to back surgeries, his eyes were fuzzy with exhaustion and all he wanted was to pass out in his bed and not see this place for another week. The sun was only just beginning to set, and Stephen knew his dream was going to become a reality soon, there were no more critical patients that couldn’t wait for surgery until tomorrow, and by then their reinforcements will be in. It was just a matter of some paperwork and goodbyes.

The sound of the hospital door sliding open made him sigh, his body tensed automatically, and he didn’t even have to look up to know that Christine was standing behind him. “Please tell me someone didn’t just get diagnosed with internal bleeding or something.”

She came up next to him, her hair was a mess, falling from her bun in a way that was admittedly still attractive. She offered him a weak smile and waved a small red folder with an expression of guilty reluctance.

He sighed, “what is it?”

“A consultation.”

Stephen looked at her uncomprehendingly, “are you fucking serious?”

She winced, “I tried to explain that you’ve been here for more then twenty-four hours, but they wouldn’t hear it. You were requested specifically and apparently this is being back by some government organization.”

Stephen clenched his teeth, seething and Christine shook her head a little, “Stephen its just a consultation, twenty minutes tops then we can get the hell out of here.”

He didn’t respond beyond a quick jerk of the head. He followed in silence, accepting the folder but not bothering to look at it. Soon enough they were in the intensive care unit, one of the expensive specially suits for the richer patients.

As soon as the door swung open Stephen stopped dead.

Laying in the bed and looking non-too happy about it was the one and only Tony Stark, otherwise known as Ironman. He looked beaten up for sure, perhaps a little ragged, not that Stephen had any sympathy at the moment, but otherwise he was essentially fine. He was talking to a larger man, adorned in a black suit, he assumed it was security. He was hooked up and a steady beating indicated his heart was fine, and there were IV fluids up and pumping.

He hadn’t seen Tony Stark in nearly five years. Had only been aware of his activities in the peripheral, namely his brief kidnapping, his declaration of being a superhero, and of course the random snip its of media attention. Yet he had never truly made the connection of him being both Tony Stark and Ironman, he was skeptical of the man’s ability to do anything heroic in his life, but then maybe being kidnapped at the mercy of your own weapons changed a man.

Stephen wasn’t the only one who froze, Christine was shooting him a wide-eyed look before she slid the door open and entered. Stephen hung back for a moment, concealed by a curtain that covered the glass wall, he listened carefully, unable to explain his own actions.

“Hello Mr. Stark. My name is-”

She was cut off instantly by a gruff, tired voice, “I asked for Dr. Strange. I won’t see anyone else so you can leave now.”

Stephen breezed in instantly, not looking up from the file now opened in his hands. “Hello Mr. Stark. I would introduce myself, but you already know me.”

Stephen glanced up to meet familiar warm eyes that seemed to drag him back in time all at once. He hardly thought about that evening anymore, yet still in this second that same odd pull seemed to emerge out of nowhere making the air thick between them, twice as strong as before.

Tony cleared his throat, shot a meaningful glance as his bodyguard who rolled his eyes and promptly left.

“Good to see you again Doctor.” Stephen doubted that very much.

Stephen didn’t respond, struggled to keep irritation from showing as he skimmed the file. The man had died apparently for approximately a minute and forty seconds, for some reason Stephen’s heart clenched at that, yet so far, all preliminary checks showed him to be in relatively good health. No emergencies brewing and as long as he stayed for observation there was nothing to worry about.

“Why am I here?”

Both Christine and Tony blinked at his harsh tone.

Stephen continued anyway, “more importantly why are _you_ here? I imagine the government if not your own penthouse has its own medical wing and staff. Why are you wasting one of our much-needed beds at a time when it’s a scarce resource?”

Tony chuckled weakly, “well you haven’t changed.”

“Stephen-” Christine began tightly, only to be cut off _again_ by Stark.

“The project you were working on was about using technology to sustain the hearts of the weak and elderly or others with serious conditions. You seemed like the best choice to make sure everything is in working order, so I can be discharged and head home.”

Stephen ran a hand through his hair, “I have no experience with that thing in your chest and can’t help you. You died so observation is the best bet, but I’m sure you can be discharged if you pull some strings with your government buddies.”

Christine bit her lip, her eyes hazy and her patience clearly as thin as Stephens as she beat a hasty retreat, sensing the consultation would be shorter then even she thought. He turned to follow her and was just about to step out the door when Tony suddenly called out to him.

He shouldn’t have done it, should have just kept walking until he could sink into a bed and sleep for a millennium but once again, as though against his will he looked back. Tony looked so small in that bed, his face was pale, and his eyes were wide with a strange panicked look filling them. Against his better judgment Stephen held back, made his way to the end of Tony’s bed.

Tony swallowed thickly, “look, I’m sorry. You are the only person I know in this hospital and I already hate Doctors. I just wanted someone familiar and you were it.”

Stephen raised an eyebrow, “a stranger wasn’t better then the man you slept with that ended the night in an angry frenzy?”

He shrugged, “to be fair, you started that not me.”

Stephen blew a heavy sigh, picked up the chart at the end of the bed. He skimmed it, but everything seemed to be in working order, he dropped it back down. “I’ll sign the release papers against my better judgment. Just make sure you keep some with you for the next twenty-four hours just in case.”

Tony swallowed thickly, his eyes shifting back and forth anxiously, and Stephen waited, sensing the man had something more to say. “So…I’m really alright?”

He watched him for a moment, deciding, “I doubt it.”

Tony’s eyes snapped back to him, sitting up a little straighter, “really? What wrong with me then?”

Stephen was so tired, his eyes fell on the chair pulled up next to the bed and without thinking he rounded it and sat, Tony watching him the entire time. He leaned back thankfully, lifted his feet onto Tony’s bed and looked up at the confused, anxious man.

“I don’t know. I’m not a psychiatrist but you just fought a war, died, and are now sitting in a hospital with a man you last saw five years ago. Physically you are the best as can be expected, considering. Everything else though, well its pretty normal.”

Tony was staring at him with a familiar look he had seen on many patients before he became a surgeon, denial, disbelief, embarrassment. Stephen shrugged, “you are only human Tony.”

“That isn’t what you said last time, something about be being a moral abomination.” Tony muttered.

Stephen just leaned back and closed his eyes, “I never said that, but you got the intent right. Good on you.”

Tony snorted suddenly, his voice forcibly shifting to something lighter, “well I think I more then made up for all that today. What with saving New York and all.”

“Last I heard that wasn’t just you, and it probably just makes you about even really.”

“God you are such an asshole still.” Silence for a moment, then quieter and concerned. “Are you ok?”

“What do you think?” Stephen muttered, eyes still closed, head titled back.

“Well I don’t know. I’m just confused why you look like the dead one here by I was the one who actually just fought a war and died.” His tone was sarcastic and tinged with humor, but Stephen found he had no patience for it.

He levelled him with a glare, “Right, because once you go home the battle is over. I don’t know if you are blind or not Stark, but this hospital has been filled to bursting since those things landed in New York. You think when you were done, we all got to celebrate and go home? No, I’ve have been here for almost twenty-nine hours, have performed six surgeries, not to mention half a dozen small procedures in our tiny little hallways because we had no more beds, and have been running on coffee and fumes. So, excuse me for not being overly sympathetic at the moment.”

Stephen was breathing hard, hands clenching on the arms of the chair while Tony looked at him both startled and angry. The silence loomed heavy between them, and for all the media coverage he had seen of Tony Stark supposedly turning his life around Stephen found the man too damn close to how he was five years ago.

Stephen wasn’t claiming to be a saint, he was rude and arrogant, but he had fucking earned that through hard work and perseverance. The man in front of him now did not impress him in the slightest what with all his _sacrifices_. No one was forcing him to be Ironman, and the last thing he needed to hear was about how hard his day had been.

Ignoring the twisting in his gut at the look on the other man’s face Stephen stood and fled from the room, wincing when he got to his feet. Just like all those years before, there was silence as he did so and the ever-present pull of the man’s orbit.

When he left, he wasn’t surprised to find Christine waiting for him or the disapproval on her face, “That was rude even for you. The man died Stephen.”

He looked at her for a minute then shook his head, “and I’m tired, I’m going home.”

\----

In retrospect Stephen was well-aware his behaviour had been atrocious and that his words had been less then kind, not that could honestly say he regretted it. Any left-over guilt had also dissipated quickly when there were no news reports about Ironman dropping dead a few days later.

He wanted to forget, for a whole host of reasons. The hospital took nearly a week to return to normal, the fear and paranoia in the media and on the streets nearly a month and Stephen was tired of superheroes and emergencies and a certain businessman who had no reason to directly request his presence. So, like he often did, he acted without thinking and finally managed to take a skeptical Christine to dinner, the one person he knew could make him forget everything in a heartbeat.

It was perhaps the best decision he ever made, and as he threw himself back into one of his many projects Stephen believed he would, once more, never run into Tony Stark again. Something, he would be more then happy about.

Yet, when nearly a year later a folder slid across his desk asking for a consult with Tony’s name printed on it, he paused. His first instinct was to throw it away, but instead he opened it and gave a cursory glance to discover the man intended on removing the arc reactor. He deliberated for almost an hour, leaving it staring up at him on his desk before he finally sat down with a sigh, and referred the case to another surgeon. He was left wondering why, after both of their last two meetings ended in disaster the man kept asking for him and his opinion.

\----

The third time Stephen met Tony Stark in person he had been ninety nine percent certain it wasn’t real. It had to be a mirage brought on by all the drugs in his system, the concussion, hell even the artificial sleep filled nights he had been suffering for the past week.

He had woken to familiar and irritating beeping, blinking in the harsh light and detesting how everything had a hazy sheen to it. He had been in the hospital for a nearly a week now since the crash, his hands were no closer to getting better and every day that he had to stare at the mess he felt hopelessness tighten around his throat like a noose.

He hadn’t noticed the presence yet because they were sitting on left side and his eye was still swollen nearly shut. The movement of his head was also restricted enough to make it downright miserable to try and shift when he finally heard the person standing.

He was expecting it to be Christine, but instead the man who looked down at him was horribly familiar. Stephen stared up, uncomprehendingly at Stark, while humiliation rose in him like a tidal wave. It had to be morphine dream, there was no explanation as to why Tony, whom he hadn’t seen in four years would be standing at his bedside with that disgusting look of pity.

“What are you doing here?” The words were pushed out through dry and cracked lips, his voice all but gone from a lack of use lately.

Something flitted across the man’s face, his eyes glazed and faraway, staring into the distance, “I don’t know.” He murmured.

Just like that Stephen was being pulled back under, the drugs tugging relentlessly at his subconscious but this time he went willingly, happy for the escape. Later, he told Christine gruffly about his fever dream only for her to admit that Stark had been there, though only briefly. She claimed that when he left, he appeared shaken, and had accusingly blamed her for his waking up during his visit.

Stephen didn’t know how to feel about that. He barely knew the man, their entire acquaintance made up of a one-night stand, angry words, and sarcastic banter, nothing that should earn him a visit in the slightest. Still, that thought didn’t stop the warmth stirring within him, which he duly ignored because really, he had much bigger problems now.

\----

The next time Stephen even allowed Tony Stark to flit through his brain, he was a very different man. He hoped, a better one. His life had taken on a surreal quality as he devoted his time and life to the Mystic Arts, and eventually became not so different form the superheroes he used to judge. So, when one afternoon the hulk crashed into his Sanctum, effectively destroying the beautiful staircase and was told that to save the world he needed to get in contact with Ironman, it felt like a punch to the gut.

As the man, Bruce he was quickly reminded, frantically explained the threat posed by an alien named Thanos, Stephen was still reeling from the hit. Wong was shooting him unimpressed glances, but Stephen said nothing. He had all but severed ties with his past, the only exception being the occasional visit to Christine, and for some reason the thought of seeing Tony now, as a Sorcerer, was like being hit with a fuzzy and indistinct past, he wasn’t even sure happened.

Regardless, of course, his feelings weren’t exactly a consideration. When he finally prepared to create the portal, he actually felt a surge of anticipation. The last time the man had seen him, he was broken and humiliated, it would be gratifying to prove he no longer was.

The shock on Tony’s face was worth it. He could see the confusion there as well, and for a moment he hadn’t been sure Tony recognized him, but just like all the times before there was a shift in the air between them as he followed Stephen back through the portal. But this time, that pull, that strange click that had always been there felt different, Stephen could actually sense the energy flowing invisibly between them.

All that was pushed aside in a heartbeat as Bruce offered his story, explained that Thor and the Asgardians were gone, massacred. As Tony listened with rapt attention, Wong sidled up next to him, his brows drawn tight in contemplation.

“Do you feel that?” He murmured.

Stephen frowned, “feel what?”

“The tether.”

Stephen looked at his companion sharply, it wasn’t all in his head apparently. Wong’s own expression darkened, “you can sense it right?”

Unease twisted in his gut, they didn’t have time to talk about that, not right now. They were quickly drawn back into the conversation, Wong offering his own explanation and a little show regarding the infinity stones, and Stephen was amazed by how easy it was to fall into familiar banter with Tony, and that was when he realized it. That there had always been the strangest sense that he knew this man intimately, in a way that neither time nor experience could back up. In each of their encounters it hadn’t _felt_ like years, it had always felt like they were picking up from where they left off. The look in Tony’s eye hinted at a similar feeling.

Then the ship landed, Ebony Maw kidnapped him, they were dragged into space, and were utterly unprepared to fight a Titan. As he stood toe to toe with Tony, explaining what he would have to do to keep the Time Stone safe, even if it made nausea bloom within him, Stephen spotted yet another familiar look in Tony’s eyes.

The man was scared, there was no denying that, he would be a fool not to be. But that look spoke more of panic and trauma not so different to the brief glimpse he got in the hospital room after the battle of New York. Respect bloomed for this man in front him, all at once. But he didn’t back down, he had a job to do and no one could keep him from protecting the Stone.

It was the sense of helplessness that made him finally give in and dive into the secrets the Stone liked to hold so jealously. What he saw there was devastating and inexplicably beautiful, horrific in its mindless terror, and overwhelming in its majesty. It showed him everything, not just the future and what needed to be done, but the long, long, twisting and curving road that had brought them here.

Thanos had been working his way to Earth for a very long time, but the spirit of the Earth itself had been preparing for this moment even longer. He could see it now, as familiar faces flashed before his eyes of Thor, of Captain America in the forties, of Black Widow as a child lost and afraid, of Bruce with manic determination in his eyes, Hawkeye training day and night to be the best, Scarlett Witch and the experiments she endured, and on and on.

They had been chess pieces on a board this whole time, the very essence of the Earth moving in tandem with each move Thanos made. Then the images slowed, became fuzzy before clearing on all to familiar scene. People dressed in formal wear seated at tables before a stage, whispering amongst themselves and drinking and joking while they waited. Silence fell as Stephen watched himself walk out onto the stage, paper for his speech in hand, confident as ever. His breath caught as he watched himself begin to read, then he was looking in the crowd, searching until his eyes fell on Tony Stark.

He remembered Christine’s words that night, about how he had stolen the man’s attention and it seemed to be utterly true. Tony was dressed in that beautiful grey suit, chin resting on his hands, but his eyes were locked on the stage, the smallest of smiles turning up his lips. Stephen could practically feel the weight of that stare and couldn’t believe he hadn’t felt it then.

_How long were you planning this?_

As if he actually expected the Stone to answer, because it was abundantly clear now that there _had_ been something, some tether like Wong said pulling them together all this time, preparing for this, waiting for this moment.

When the Stone replayed all the possibilities for him the answer was obvious, there could be no other option. He thinks it was planned perfectly, if this were the same Tony, he had met that first night he wouldn’t have trusted him to handle this all alone, wouldn’t have even risked putting him in the same room as a Stone, let alone wield the gauntlet, but he wasn’t that man anymore. Stephen also knows that if he was still the man he was before the crash there was no scenario in which he would have been able to give up control, to put his faith wholly and purely in someone else. But that was the point, if he hadn’t been able to witness those very changes through a long and bumpy acquaintance neither of them would trust the other to do what needs to be done now.

He leaves the Stone and is left shaky and weak as its power drains out of him. Tony is there begging for a way to win and even though it hurts, and he is still confused by the rush of images and emotions he promises him one chance of salvation.

\----

When the dust cleared and the mass of bodies appearing out of thin air receded, all Stephen feels is tired. He’s relieved of course, that he had made the right decision and that Tony was able to wield the gauntlet just like the Stone showed him, but now his entire being is yearning for a warm bed.

He didn’t think, he just prepared to return to the Sanctum, another end of the world averted, time to go on business as usual. He should have known better. A hand landed on his shoulder, firm and shockingly warm after floating so long in the Soul Stone. Turning, he is unsurprised to see Tony, dirty and battle worn but very alive and looking a little high on adrenalin.

“Strange.” There is a smirk playing on his lips and Stephen can’t help but respond in kind.

“Stark, I see you managed to save the world again.”

“I had a bit of help, but what do you think? Have I made up for my past mistakes yet or am I still about even?” His tone is playful but the look in his eyes hints at a man earnestly seeking approval.

Stephen’s breath catches. At some point, some where this thing had evolved into an intimacy that neither of them expected, he finds himself answering sincerely, his own tone infused with warmth, “yeah Tony, I think its safe to say you’ve blown that ratio out of the park.”

It was the easiest thing in the world to place a trembling hand over the one on his shoulder, to pull him into a tight hug right there on the street filled with shell-shocked and panicked citizens. Tony’s face buried itself in Stephen’s neck, his arms wrapping around him tightly as though begging Stephen to keep him together, and so he did. He tightened his own arms as Tony shook, he didn’t cry, just let the weight he had been carrying since Stephen gave up the Stone crash over him, as he sought comfort in his arms. They stood there, exactly in that position for nearly twenty-minutes, in their own little bubble, undisturbed. Eventually, Stephen relaxed himself, didn’t hesitate to press his cheek against Tony’s hair, after all, at this point, with all the futures he had seen, it was as though he had known Tony for a thousand lifetimes.

Soon enough their bubble is broken by the frantic ringing of Tony’s cell phone and the appearance of a wide-eyed Peter. Tony is on the boy in a flash, yanking him into his hold and Stephen turns away, concealing a smile on his face. He makes his portal and returns to the Sanctum; well-aware Wong was likely in panic mode.

\----

It takes six days, three sleepless nights, and three dozen teas before the chaos settles into something akin to normalcy. Stephen is seated in his armchair by the fire, reading a light text while Wong flips pages in silence across from him.

It takes Stephen that long to finally ask the question that has been racking around his brain since Titan, knowing that he may not like the answer. He clears his throat quietly and shuts his book with a little thump. Wong glances up, sees his expression and closes his own, he sits in his usual listening pose, back straight, expression impassive.

Stephen has to hide a smirk from the man, still he takes a deep breath before diving in, “Wong, could you explain that tether you mentioned?”

The man looks confused for a moment, head tilting to the side, but he see’s the moment the memory registers and his lips curl up widely, “I could but I was hoping you would figure it out yourself.”

Stephen just groaned in annoyance and Wong rolled his eyes, “Fine, when you and Stark were together, I sensed energy flowing between the two of you. Usually that only goes one way, the other entity to us, since we naturally feed off metaphysical power in the vicinity. But this one was flowing both ways, it was quite interesting.”

Stephen’s hand drifted up to the Eye still hanging securely around his neck. He had found it difficult to part with it since the attack, his instinct to keep it within his sight at all times. “Do you know what it is or why it would be there?”

Something flashed in Wong’s eyes almost like pity and Stephen felt his spine stiffen, sensing the other man’s hesitance.

Wong pursed his lips for a moment before continuing wearily as though choosing each and every word with care, “I looked into it and it is described as a bond that forms between two, or sometimes more, people destined to be part of some great or terrible task.”

Stephen relaxed into the chair abruptly, his eyes fluttering closed on a sigh of relief. That description fit perfectly with what the Stone had showed him, he and Tony had been integral to beating Thanos, what greater task was that?

“That’s not all,” Stephen peeked an eye open to find Wong shifting uncomfortably. “In theory that inherent bond should dissipate quickly once its purpose has been served.”

Stephen swallowed thickly, “and it hasn’t?”

Wong shook his head, “there is still time of course, the records are sketchy on the details. But it might be wise we begin preparing…. for some other threat.”

Silence reigned for several moments until Wong stood abruptly and made his way to the bookshelf filled to bursting. He pulled out simple volume with unnerving certainty. It was black and fairly small when compared to most of their collection, he placed it in Stephen’s lap, taking away the one he had been reading.

He peered down at it, taking a moment to translate the title imbedded in cursive golden lettering, _indissolubili vinculo copulatae cohaerentiae_

“Unbreakable bond,” Stephen murmured.

“Yes, I suggest you give it a read. It should explain a lot and the rest we’ll work out.”

Stephen offered up a grateful smile to Wong.

\----

Four days later and Stephen was moving slowly through the book, the reason being a mix of difficult translations and his own trepidation. It was describing the transfer of energy and the bond itself as one forming at birth born out of fatum, or destiny. He had absolutely no idea how he felt about that, the idea that all of this was pre-destined from the start, that he wasn’t functioning under his own autonomy.

He was meditating on that very thought when there were three distinct knocks at the door of the Sanctum. Stephen let out a shuddering breath, slowly easing himself from his peaceful state. It was Tony, he knew that of course, and he found himself eager to see the man.

Within moments he was at the door, swinging it open to reveal an exhausted looking Tony, dishevelled and dressed causally in what he figured was meant to be a low-key disguise. Tony grinned when he saw him, lighting up spectacularly.

“Stephen.”

He nodded curtly, “Tony.”

“Mind if I come in?”

Stephen paused, his mind swirling with the bond and the fact that he had to tell the man in front of him about it. He had intended on keeping it to himself, at least until he understood it fully, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie. So, he silently stepped back, allowing him to enter. “Actually, we have something to talk about.”

Tony didn’t seem surprised, his warm eyes unwavering with a new familiar trust in them. “I figured as much, though it isn’t like you’ve bothered to contact me at all.”

Stephen rolled his eyes, “you weren’t the only one with messes to clean up, you know.”

He led Tony to the sitting room, noting the look fascination as his head swivelled about. Soon enough they were both seated comfortably, tea at their sides and eyes on one other, clearly waiting for the other to start. Stephen had to admit that Tony looked good, considering. The man had been through hell and back and while Stephen knew he would be ok he had expected more…fallout.

“So, magic huh?”

Stephen snorted, “really?”

Tony grinned, “what did you want me to say? Its definitely not what I expected when you disappeared.”

“Why? Because I’m a man of science? How could I possibly reconcile magic with the order of things?” Stephen asked sarcastically.

Tony nodded solemnly, “Definitely surprising.”

“Yes, well it takes a certain level of intelligence to understand how they work together.”

Tony’s eyes lit up, “I’m pretty sure we established my superior intellect when we first met.”

And just like that Stephen sobered. The reminder of their meeting bringing to mind the book currently tucked away in his bedroom upstairs. He cleared his throat, struggled to look him in the eye.

“Tony what is your opinion on fate or destiny?”

The man blinked, clearly blindsided by the question. He ran a hand through his hair, head tilting a little in confusion, “uh, its bullshit?”

Stephen couldn’t help the smile that broke through, “nice,” he tried a different tactic. “What are the odds that almost eleven years since the night we met, we would be sitting across from one another now?”

Tony met his gaze unflinchingly, he sat up straighter as though he had been dying to say the words he was about to spit out, “utterly and completely inevitable.”

Stephen paused, taken aback by the intensity of his expression. Tony’s hands were fiddling absently with the hems of his sleeve, a nervous tell. Stephen tried to focus and forge ahead, “that suggests us ending up here was pre-determined.”

Tony shrugged, “maybe but I’d like to think its not because of destiny or whatever.”

“Then what?”

“All my actions are my own doing, but I think from the moment you walked out on that stage I just knew you weren’t going to disappear from my life.”

Stephen’s heart sped up despite himself, he felt like he was having two conversations at once, like they were on two different pages just like they’ve always been, “that sounds really stalkerish of you.” He attempted humor, desperately wanting to lighten the mood.

He smiled. “I just mean, that obviously I thought you were hot. But after we spoke about your project you proved intelligent as well, and then when I tried to pick you up your sass was fucking adorable.”

Stephen spluttered indigently, “adorable?!”

Tony laughed, his head being thrown back and everything, “yeah, adorable. At least until we got to the hotel room and we were back to hot.”

Stephen glared at the man, but he just continued to grin and sip his tea. Stephen really needed to get this back on track, “you said you felt like I wasn’t just going to disappear from your life,” he began carefully. “Is that why you wanted to keep contact after our one-night stand?”

Tony hesitated, “I guess, it just felt right, and I enjoyed your company. Obviously, that freaked you out.”

“One-night stand usually means _one night_ ,” Stephen deadpanned.

He shrugged, Stephen decided to push on, “you admit that wasn’t normal behaviour for you though.”

Tony sipped his tea again, brows furrowing a little, “Yeah I guess.”

Stephen took a deep breath, “what about after the battle of New York? You requested to speak with me specifically, why?”

“I really do hate unfamiliar doctors.” He muttered, avoiding Stephen gaze.

He chose to drop that one, “fine what about when I was in the hospital?”

Tony stiffened, set down his tea. His fingers began played with the lower buttons of his shirt, “I didn’t think you remembered that.”

Stephen took a steadying breath, “you had no reason to be there. You hardly knew me and when I asked you why you seemed so dazed and confused.”

“What are you trying to say Stephen? Just spit it out.”

“Wong and I have sensed this tether between us. It is a bond that forms at birth and ties two souls toward a single purpose until it is complete. What I’m trying to say is that these past years were destined to happen so that we could trust each other enough to defeat Thanos. It explains why our paths kept intercepting whether or not we wanted them to or not.” He chose to leave out the fact that it had still yet to dissipate, the man didn’t need the fear of another threat over his head right now.

Tony frowned, his eyes going unfocused, a far away look sliding into them. Stephen waited patiently, figured he would need a minute to process it before denying it.

“I…no,” predictable.

Stephen relaxed into his chair a little, trembling hands resting on his knees, “you don’t have to believe me, but I thought you should know.”

Tony’s gaze focused and snapped back to his, “that sounded like a dismissal.”

Stephen frowned, “I didn’t mean-”

Tony shook his head, lean forward suddenly and letting out a loud groan of frustration, “Dammit Stephen you are fucking up my plan royally right now.”

Stephen blinked hard, “I…what?”

He shook his head again and stood, suddenly pacing in front of Stephen, taking five steps before a harsh turn back. Stephen was so confused right now. Tony ran his had through his hair yet again, another nervous habit then, “Just answer me this ok?”

Stephen nodded hesitantly.

“I don’t believe in that fate and destiny crap, but you obviously do,” Stephen bit his lip to keep from protesting that right now he wasn’t sure _what_ to believe, but Tony plowed ahead. “So, do you believe that destiny controls our every action and response, or do you think it just brings people together and lets shit happen how it will?”

“huh, I-” Stephen paused yet again, his brain running a mile a minute. It was a good question, and he was surprised to find he actually already had an answer. Stephen believed that they must have some control over their actions, words, even emotions. Destiny couldn’t possibly reach into people’s autonomy in the that way. The Stone had suggested only that it set people on a path, how the reacted, felt, and even thought about it seemed to be all their own. “The second one.” He decided.

A profound relief stole over Tony’s features, he stopped pacing and he grinned down at Stephen who stared back wearily. “Wonderful. Want to go to dinner with me?”

Stephen stared at him blankly, sure his mind had just short-circuited, “what?”

Tony’s head tilted in amusement, “you’ve been doing that a lot.”

Stephen was still trying to process the request, the eagerness in Tony’s eyes. That explained the question, he didn’t want to risk Stephen thinking that his actions in the past were dictated by this bond or destiny instead of his own emotions which was just…a lot to think about.

So instead of answering the first thing to come out of his mouth was of course, “but…why?”

Tony flushed, embarrassment stealing onto his features, “I thought I made that clear with the whole hot, intelligence, and sass thing I mentioned.”

Stephen swallowed thickly, cast his mind back to their brief interactions, “I just, I’ve never been very, er, nice to you.”

He shrugged, a self-deprecating smile appeared on his lips, “I’m pretty sure that went both ways. Besides, we’re different men then we were that first night, you aren’t dead on your feet like at the hospital, and you’ve proven to be just as much as a self-sacrificing idiot as me the past few days.” Tony paused for a moment, his eyes growing serious as he walked up to him suddenly. He kneeled down in front of Stephen’s chair and he watched as gently took one of his trembling hands in his own, Tony swallowed thickly. “I don’t want you to say yes if you think the only feelings you might have for me are from this stupid bond thing you are talking about.”

Stephen stared into his warm eyes, mind spinning. He realizes now that he had always felt the pull in those interactions, he just hadn’t known what it was. But he also realizes that there is no possible reason why the universe would have wanted them to sleep together during their first interaction, or why it would want them to meet at a hospital while sleep-deprived and half dead. The bond might be there, but it didn’t control their actions or how Stephen felt about them. Stephen also knows he is more equipped then anyone to acknowledge just how much the man in front of him has changed, having had a front row seat in the Time Stone. He was suddenly overwhelmed with the need to try this, to risk everything including the upcoming danger Wong spoke of, even if it meant just one dinner.

So, throwing caution to the wind Stephen squeezed the hand holding his, brought it too his lips and pressed a feather light kiss there. “Yes,” he whispered it like a promise for just the two of them, for better or for worse.

Tony’s eyes lit up and there was this sudden and distinct _click_ as something seemed to fall into place between them. Stephen wasn’t sure if Tony could sense it, but the pulling sensation had disappeared, replaced with something soothing, and present, and pure. Stephen couldn’t help but think; _Tony was right, this was inevitable from the start._

**Author's Note:**

> Will there be a sequel? Yes.  
> When will there be a sequel? No clue, hopefully by the end of December.  
> I would love to hear your opinions! Comments are my number one source of inspiration :)


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